


A Narnian Tradition

by Snacky



Category: Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis
Genre: Alternate Universe, Arranged Marriage, F/M, First Time, Golden Age (Narnia), Narnian spring festival, Ritual Sex, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-10-12 18:35:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20568983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snacky/pseuds/Snacky
Summary: There's a Narnian tradition that royal siblings must wed to ensure an heir. Susan doesn't really have a choice. Edmund gives her one.





	A Narnian Tradition

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ViaLethe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ViaLethe/gifts).

> Susan and Edmund, together at last, for their biggest fan! <3

When Susan turns 13, her dryad handmaidens tell her, with great delight, she will be flowering soon. It’s different for humans than it is for dryads, or for Talking Beasts, they tell her. But when it happens, she’ll be a woman.

Susan still remembers England, still remembers her mother, although the memories grow more cloudy and vague with each day. But her handmaidens’ words stir memories to the front of her mind, of older girls at school talking about “that time of the month” and her mother sitting her down and explaining that soon her body would change and there would be blood and pain but also she’d be able to become a mother herself (although not right away! And not before being married!).

Susan understands what the dryads mean. She makes a note to ask the seamstresses for old rags, because she knows she’ll have use for them.

~~~

It’s near the end of her thirteenth year, when she bleeds for the first time. She’s uncomfortable and embarrassed when her maid notices the stains on her smallclothes, and on her bedsheets, but that embarrassment is minor compared to when Tumnus announces at court that afternoon that “Queen Susan has flowered.” All the Narnians present cheer and applaud and celebrate. Susan, on the other hand, wishes she could sink through the floor. Peter’s bright red, she notices, and Lucy is just giggling. Edmund, though — Edmund gives her a quick look, his eyes dark and his face unreadable.

That, Susan thinks, can’t be good. When Edmund is carefully neutral, there’s something behind it.

She leaves court early that day, pleading a headache, and asks for dinner to be delivered to her chambers.

Edmund arrives after her dinner, with a stack of books in his arms, and that same careful expression on his face.

“What is it?” she asks, looking up from what’s left of her meal. Quite a bit, since her apppetite has been lost to pain and her headache, but the wine she sips at seems to help.

But he just places the books on her desk, not even looking at her. “You’ll want to read these. I’ve marked the pages.”

Fine. He won’t tell her. “Where did you get the books?” she asks as he walks back to the door.

He pauses before exiting, but doesn’t turn. “The library. The books are… from before the witch’s time. From when humans still ruled Narnia.”

Curious, she thinks, taking another sip of wine. “About what happens when a girl flowers?” she asks, her tone lighter than she feels.

Edmund opens the door, but turns to look at her before leaving, his eyes dark and expression serious. “Su. Just read them. We can talk afterwards.” Then he slips through the door, leaving her alone with the books and her thoughts.

Her younger brother, she thinks, has aged beyond his years since they arrived in Narnia. His body is still that of a young boy’s, unlike Peter who is slowly but surely growing into his long limbs and broad shoulders. But Edmund was changed by his experiences with the witch, and changed even more so since they began their reign. Edmund is quiet and guarded, wise beyond his years. Susan would not call him “unhappy” because it’s hard for any of them to be truly unhappy in Narnia. But Edmund is slower to talk, slower to laugh, more observant and mindful of their kingdom and their people, and the world surrounding Narnia.

Edmund, she thinks, as she picks up one of the books, is the only one who would have spent hours in the library seeking the information that he thinks she needs. She sits at her desk and opens it to the marked pages, to see the information he’s left for her.

~~~

The next day she is early to breakfast, as is Edmund. And she greets him with, “Do Peter and Lucy know this?”

Edmund, to his credit, doesn’t ask what she means, just shakes his head. “I don’t think so. Peter, maybe. But if he does, I wasn’t the one to tell him.”

They stop talking when Peter enters the room, with Lucy on his heels, both of them laughing at some joke. They greet her happily, asking if she feels better, before sitting down to eat. They continue to chatter happily, talking about events in Narnia, castle gossip, and what the day hold for them, and Susan joins in, keeping her face as calm as Edmund’s.

Peter doesn’t know, she thinks. And she wonders why Edmund told her first.

~~~

After breakfast ends and Lucy dashes out of the room, eager to get on with her visit to Beruna, Susan catches Peter before he leaves. Edmund hasn’t stirred from the table.

“What’s going on?” Peter asks warily, glancing between them. He knows as well as Susan does that when Edmund is unreadable, it means something is up. And perhaps he reads that on Susan’s face as well. Peter isn’t like Susan or Edmund — he’s more like Lucy, wearing his heart on his sleeve, every emotion visible on his face. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t know his siblings, Susan realizes.

She tells him when she read in the books last night, the information about the earlier human monarchs of Narnia, that Edmund brought to her.

She’s not sure how to begin, at first. “You know that Narnia has never been a human country. There have been humans in Narnia, of course, and before the Witch took over, many who were killed or who fled to Archenland. But Narnia has always been a wild country, for the Talking Beasts and the magical creatures.”

Peter nods, a look of confusion on his face. “Yes, of course I know all that. But what does that have to do with…” he trails off and looks between his brother and sister. “With whatever this is?”

Susan takes a breath, keeps her face as calm and blank as Edmund’s, her voice cool. “Previously in Narnia, the human royals married their siblings. The heir to the throne if male, would marry his sister. If female, she would marry her brother.” Peter says nothing, just gapes at her, his eyes wide and his mouth open, so Susan continues. “All that cheering yesterday? When Tumnus announced that I’d ‘flowered?’” 

Peter turns as red as he did yesterday, and Susan only wishes she felt that same embarrassment — now she just feels a sense of fate settle over her. There’s a choice that’s been made for her already, a choice she hadn’t known about, a choice that will never really be hers.

“They were celebrating because it means now I can bear an heir. Now I can be wed. To you.”

Peter just shakes his head. “That can’t be true —”

It’s Edmund who interrupts him, who tells him of his research, of all the history of Narnia going hundreds of years back, of brothers and sisters, princes and princesses, who became kings and queens, husbands and wives. 

Susan keeps quiet while Edmund explains all the details of this accepted practice in Narnia. Peter’s quiet too, and Susan watches his face while Edmund speaks, watching the reactions and the emotion so plainly written there.

Peter doesn’t want this. Peter doesn’t want to marry Susan. Perhaps it’s because he remembers England where things like that were never done. Perhaps it’s because he has someone he already is thinking of marrying. Perhaps he never wants to marry. It could be a million reasons, and Susan has no idea what any of them are, but that one thing is clear. Peter doesn’t want to wed Susan.

She’s not sure what she wants. She’s not sure if what they want even matters. It seems entirely clear to her that this is a Narnian practice, accepted and expected by all the Narnians. Aslan didn’t make them kings and queens to change Narnia, but to guide over it, to protect it and its people. Susan feels quite certain the traditions fall under that protection.

She doesn’t think they have a choice.

But after Edmund finishes and Peter looks at her, clearly distraught, and says “what shall we do?”, it turns out that they have a choice after all.

“You don’t have to do anything, Peter,” Edmund says quietly. “I’ll marry Susan.”

~~~

Of course, that’s not the final word on it.

There’s endless discussion between the three of them at first. Then they bring Lucy into it. Susan can’t really be surprised by Lucy’s reaction — she remembers England the least, and is the most Narnian of all of them. “Well, of course that’s what the Narnians want. It makes sense after all. Shall we all be married? Peter and Su, and Edmund and I?”

Which is, Susan thinks, a good question.

But after meeting with Tumnus and their other advisors, they discover that all four of them wedded to each other isn’t necessary. Just two need to wed, and the hereditary line will continue through them. The Narnians on their council believe it should be the High King to wed Queen Susan.

Susan isn’t asked for her opinion, and Lucy doesn’t volunteer to take her place.

But again, Edmund stops all the discussion. “I’ll wed Queen Susan. It doesn’t have to be Peter. Nothing in the histories said anything about the High King being the one to wed.”

Edmund’s face is grave and his voice is stern, and no one points out that Peter is the only High King in Narnian history. Susan would, but really, it’s rather beside the point.

So after weeks of discussion and arguing, it’s decided. Queen Susan and King Edmund will wed and the heirs will come from their line. Peter and Lucy are free to marry of their own choosing.

The only thing Susan insists upon is the wedding not happen immediately. Edmund is still a boy, and she just barely a woman. They will wed after Edmund turns eighteen. 

All present agree, and the announcement is made to the court and country the next morning.

~~~

Things are different between Susan and Edmund after that. She had thought at first they might be awkward with each other, knowing their destiny as they do.

But instead, the shared knowledge draws them closer. She and Edmund share things with each other that they don’t with Peter and Lucy — secrets, adventures, troubles, and joys. They travel through Narnia together, and then they travel outside of Narnia together — to Calormen and Archenland, north to Harfang, and across the Eastern ocean, stopping at all the islands along the way, meeting foreign monarchs and Narnian subjects alike.

There are troubled times too — battles and illnesses where Susan fears for Edmund’s life. Susan is taken hostage in Calormen on one visit, by Prince Rabadash, and it’s only Edmund’s clever plans and skill with a sword that gets her home safely.

She watches him grow, from boy to youth to young man, and everytime she looks at him, she thinks to herself, _Edmund, my brother. My king. My husband._

They share other things as well as they grow — hand holding, kisses, longing glances, stolen touches. It doesn’t seem odd, Susan thinks. Just natural. They will be wed, so perhaps this is practice for their future lives. The first time they kiss is on Edmund’s sixteenth birthday. It starts out as a quick kiss, just a peck on the lips, but quickly turns to something more, something softer and more tender, but at the same time, something heated and fierce.

When the day comes for the wedding, Susan is not just ready for it. She’s _eager._ These years have taught her one thing — even if she didn’t have a choice, Edmund is the match for her.

~~~

There are two ceremonies for the wedding of Narnian monarchs. One is the celebratory one, in elaborate dress, in the great hall at Cair Paravel, in front of all the Narnians and their guests.

The other, the more solemn occasion, is the true wedding, the one that takes place at the Spring Festival, the spring Edmund turns eighteen.

The festival is one of rebirth, one of fertility, and Bacchus is always there to lead the festivities. The wine flows, the drums beat loudly, the music rings through crowds, and the wild dances turn into something more.

At least, that’s what Susan has heard. She’s never attended a spring festival before this, although her brothers and sister all have. But Susan’s first time must be with Edmund. There can be no chance of her getting with child unless it’s Edmund’s — the child, after all, will be heir to Narnia.

So this festival, where Edmund will take her for the first time, is the first she will attend. Lucy and their handmaidens dress her in a gown of sheer silk, blue to match her eyes, and weave white flowers into her dark hair. When the moon rises and the drums sound, Lucy and the dryads walk her out of Cair Paravel, and into the woods, where Narnians are dancing and singing and drinking already. When they come to the clearing where Edmund waits, clad only in a dark robe (brown, Susan notes, to match his eyes), they withdraw, leaving her alone with her Edmund. Her brother. Soon to be her husband.

Edmund holds out his hand, and Susan takes it, lets him pull her close to his side. Then Bacchus appears, seemingly out of nowhere, and offers them both a wineskin.

As they share the wine — sweet, strong, wild — Bacchus takes their joined hands and wraps a red ribbon loosely around their wrists, tying them together. There’s no words for them to say, no real ceremony except for the coupling. When the wineskin is empty, Bacchus disappears as suddenly as he arrived, and Edmund smiles at her, pulling her close, and kissing her deep.

Susan tastes the wine on his lips, on his tongue, and perhaps there was some magic in that wine, because she feels so hot. Her skin is aflame as she kisses Edmund, as she tugs at his robe, and he pulls at her gown. She wants him naked before her, so she can drink in the sight of his body as she eagerly as she drank the wine. 

Edmund’s hand feel like flame too, as he touches her. He cups a breast in one hand, thumbing her nipple, and Susan gasps like she’s been burned. She kisses him again, fiercely, all teeth and tongue, and before long, they’re lying on the ground, kissing and touching as if they can’t get enough of each other. 

His cock is hard against her thigh, and Edmund is panting as he pulls back from her kiss. “We don’t have to… not right away, I mean… not if you don’t want.”

Susan laughs at his words, at his absurd offer, but it’s fond and affectionate, and her heart swells at the look on his face. “Of course I want,” she says, tugging him back, pressing soft kisses along his neck. How does she say that she never had a choice in all of this, only the choices that Edmund has given to her along the way. How does she say she’s thankful and she’s glad and that she loves him more than she ever thought she could?

She can’t think of the words, so Susan rolls to her back, spreading her legs, lets Edmund settle in the cradle of her thighs. She kisses him again, and then the words come. “Make me your wife,” she whispers, looking at his dark eyes. “Make me yours.”

Her hands are on his shoulders as Edmund pushes inside her. It’s hurts for a moment, but she’s slick and ready — oh so ready for him — and this is all she’s wanted for years. As they rock together, faster and faster, Susan’s pleasure grows. Edmund comes first, with a shout of her name, hips jerking against hers, and then the pleasure washes over Susan, leaving her gasping and clinging to her husband.

Moments pass while they lie together, catching their breath, Edmund's face buried in her neck, and the ribbon still twined around their wrists.

“We’re wed,” Susan says softly. 

Edmund lifts his head to look at her. This time, the joy on his face is easy to read. “Finally,” he says.

“Finally,” she agrees, and kisses him again. 

She is glad Edmund gave her this choice.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to my betas! All remaining errors are my own.


End file.
